AW’s April 2012 Blog Chain: The Lookout

Starting Date: Monday, April 2, 2012
Open to all forum members, even after it starts!

This month’s prompt: Dead Bunnies

I’m not even going to touch that one
Write wherever the prompt inspires you, fiction or non-fiction, prose or poetry. Do try and keep things at a PG-13 level, though.

Instructions:
Simply post your blog’s URL in this thread to join. Each post should be less than 1000 words if possible. Read and comment on other participants’ posts if you possibly can–they’ll be doing the same for you!

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The prosecutor placed the audio recorder on top of the jury box railing.

“I would like to enter the following recording with the accompanying transcript,” the bailiff handed copies of the transcript to the jurors, “as Exhibit 1A.”

“So entered,” said the Judge.

The prosecutor pressed play. A gruff voice came through the speaker, punctuated by coughing that seemed to come from someone else.

-Yeah, I was standing in front of First National when one of the Foxxes came out of the bank and started shooting at me. I made a run for it, but a couple of -COUGH-COUGH-

-Take your time.

-Aahh. I got hit. He would finished me off if the cops hadn’t shown up.

-And why were you in front of the bank?

-I-I was casing the joint. Davie Foxx invited me over for some beers-COUGH- about a month ago. He said he had job for me. All I had to do was put on the rabbit costume and across the street from the bank-COUGH-COUGH-COUGH-

Members of the jury leaned closer to the recorder.

-And?

-And I was supposed to be a look out. You know, case the joint. He said nobody would notice because a lot of the stores hired kids to dressed up in funny costumes to bring in the customers. Do it for a month and nobody would think anything of it. I get a cut from the job.

-So why did the bank robber came after you?

-Well, there was this girl, who worked at bank. Se walked by every day to get her lunch. We started talking and I figured-COUGH- that if things went wrong she could get hurt. I got her digits and I thought that if I saw the Foxxes coming in to rob the place, they were supposed to call me so I could tell them the coast was clear, then she could press a button or something and call the cops.

-That didn’t happen.

-Nah! Turns out she was their inside man, mean, person. She tipped them off and one of them, wearing a dog mask or something came after me.

-Thank you Mr. Bunnson.

The prosecutor stood ramrod straight, his eyes locked firmly on the jury.

“Mr. Bunnson died from complications of the surgery to remove three 9 mm rounds from his torso,” he said.

The defense attorney stood up, “Objection, hearsay!”

A tiny smile crept up the side of the prosecutor’s lips, “Your honor, this falls under the dying declaration exception to the hearsay rule.”

“Objection denied, counselor,” said the judge.

The defense counsel huddled with his three defendants.

He stood up, “Your honor we would like a recess to confer with my clients.”